Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
everyday tastes the same.
bland todays mix with that of yesterdays-
its all the same.
with no flavour to rush my tongue,
i am sickened with the same bland taste of nothing,
everyday.

indifference clouds my senses,
day after day and night after night.
with nothing to differentiate mondays from the sundays,
i am only feeding into the downward spiral.
consuming me into the Nothing,
and i, too, become nothing.
Written by
cesario  16/M/"U.K"
(16/M/"U.K")   
142
       Lily, Pradnya, Michael Stefan and Isabine
Please log in to view and add comments on poems